


Tourists in Hell

by irishbandlover23



Category: Gintama
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, takamui week 2017, very lighthearted because these two deserve stuff other than angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishbandlover23/pseuds/irishbandlover23
Summary: A series of loosely-connected drabbles written for Takamui week!





	1. Day 2: Kiheitai and Yato Shenanigans

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to finish off a few other drabbles for this pairing... Anyways, hope you read and enjoy!

The first time they eat together is a mess.

Takasugi thinks Kamui is joking when he grins and says, “Prepare me a feast,” but as he stares at the redheaded menace ravish their dinner rations rapidly and wholeheartedly, he notes to himself that they really had to set some stipulations about food in their contract.

They might’ve entered an alliance on a (crazy and successful) whim, but the Kiheitai’s  _ not _ going bankrupt because of food.

He watches in horror and disgusted admiration as Kamui smiles and cheerily asks for another helping. “Is your appetite always this excessive?”

Kamui laughs, eyes closed, lips parted, crumbs all over his face. He should be pissed--and he is--but mostly he's amazed at the (pretty) sight in front of him.

When Kamui speaks, his words are light and airy, playful. “No, usually it's worse.”

Takasugi gapes, decidedly put off by this development. “I… see.”  _ I see why we’ll immediately come to terms on the food issue with Abuto later, that is. _

Dinner ends without much fanfare, after that. After plowing through four days worth of rations, Kamui contentedly excuses himself to his room.

Takasugi silently turns and motions to Bansai, who'd been watching the evening proceedings with an aloof but curious air. “Get me Abuto.  _ Now.” _

Bansai nods and walks off without a word--a wise decision, for Takasugi’s in no mood for jokes or small talk.

As he sits and ponders his decision to temporarily house Kamui and his crew, Matako pops her head in, takes one look at his face, and quickly turns around.

Bansai returns with a longsuffering Abuto in tow. “What did that guy do now?”

Takasugi crosses his arms, frown firmly in place. “ _ You're  _ in charge of your own food.”

Abuto snorts, but nods. “Of course,” he easily agrees.

That's one problem sorted out.

Takasugi hopes that this is the end of Kamui’s costly endeavors, but if Abuto’s quick and slightly amused agreement is any indication, Kamui certainly comes with his plentiful share of issues of his own.

* * *

 

He finds Shinsuke in a private room, carefully organizing numerous rolls of bandages. He doesn't think too much as he barges into the room, eager to talk to the always-surly Shinsuke.

“Shinsuke, I-” he stops as Shinsuke slowly turns around, his left eye uncovered.

He always knew there was a legitimate reason Shinsuke covers his eye, yet he’d occasionally entertained the passing thought that maybe it was a fashion statement.

As he stares at Takasugi, he notes that it's a real scar, a real injury. He wants to get closer, to inspect it, but Shinsuke has numerous barriers, and he isn't sure Shinsuke would let him cross this one.

He expects some emotion, but none comes. Shinsuke stares at him, eyes betraying no surprise, anger, nothing. It's this lack of response that makes him say, “Need help with that?”

He wants to smack himself--there's a time and place for jokes, and now isn't one of them--but Shinsuke snorts and glances down at Kamui’s bandaged arms. “You do a shoddy job with those, why would I let you near mine?”

Kamui pouts, idly inspecting his bandages, noting that while uneven at some places, they do their job. “It's harder to fix one's own injuries than someone else's, isn't it?”

Shinsuke stares, and he wonders if he's said something wrong. Finally, Shinsuke sighs, shakes his head, and walks towards him, a roll of bandage in hand. He's standing in front of him, and-- _ Oh _ , he realizes with a start,  _ he's grabbing my hand. _

Calloused fingers swiftly unroll his bandaged right hand. He notes the way that Shinsuke’s fingers lightly press down on his pulse, and wonders what he's searching for. His warm hand, surprisingly gentle, begins to slowly and neatly cover his hand with the bandage.

_ Should I offer to do his eye?  _ he wonders.

Despite his slow pace, Shinsuke finishes quickly and lets go of his hand. Kamui flexes his hand, noting that it's not too tight, nor too loose. It feels right. “...Thanks,” he finally says.

Shinsuke nods.

_...I should ask, shouldn't I? _

But he finds he doesn't want to ask, not yet. His heart is doing something funny, and he doesn't exactly  _ dislike _ it… but he's an expert at ignoring his heart, so he grabs the bandages from Shinsuke’s hands and says, “Turn around.”

Shinsuke stares at him, searching for something, but complies.  _ Did you find it,  _ he wonders.

He bites his lip and remains silent, concentrating on the task at hand. He tries not to get distracted, but Shinsuke’s hair is surprisingly thin and soft. He reluctantly pushes Shinsuke’s hair back and gets to work. It isn't hard--he wasn't lying when he said fixing someone else’s injuries was easier to do--but he takes care to go slow, to be careful.

He wonders if this is how Kouka felt when she stitched him up after his fights with the other neighborhood children, and shakes his head. It’s no use to dwell on the past.

He finishes up quickly, unconsciously patting Shinsuke’s head as he finishes. Shinsuke doesn't thank him, merely nods and walks back to the desk containing the bandages.

It seems the moment is done, the illusion is broken.

He wonders why he feels disappointed, but musters up enough energy to say, “This was fun.”  _ We should do it again. _

Shinsuke quirks his lips. “ _ Fun,  _ yes of course.”

He pouts. “I did a good job, didn't I?”

Shinsuke reaches up, carefully pats the bandage on the side of his head, and murmurs, “You were… passable.”

“How rude!”

Shinsuke chuckles and begins walking out of the room. He excuses himself with a soft, “We should do it again, next time.”

He's glad Shinsuke is gone, because he feels warm. He reaches up, touches his cheek, and groans.

_ Oh no, I'm blushing. _

Abuto was not going to be pleased.


	2. Day 4: Shotgun Wedding

Takasugi glares at his reflection in the mirror and angrily fixes his blue tie. How he’d been roped into this nonsense, he didn't know.

He scowls when a certain someone knocks on his door with a gleeful, “Hurry up, Shinsuke!”

He stalks forward and slams the door open. “Why are we doing this again?”

Kamui leans forward and adjusts his already-fixed tie. “Because,” he explains for the twentieth time in 48 hours, “I've got to send one to my idiot sister this time.”

Takasugi scowls. “I know that. I don't understand why I have to be in it, too.”

Kamui stands back, and inspects him with a leer. “We're killing multiple stones with one throw.” He tilts his head and hums. “Is that how you say it?”

“Whatever.”

“Anyways,” he says as they begin walking to another room, “You've got to send one to your samurai too.”

Takasugi scoffs. “He’s not _my_ samurai, he's my....”

Kamui snorts. “Whatever. It's fine, Shinsuke.”

Takasugi sputters. Why does everyone have to ignore his words nowadays? He mutters, “Why does it have to be a _marriage_ photo?”

Kamui throws him an unimpressed look. “Because… we are?”

He chokes on air and abruptly stops. _“Excuse me?”_

Kamui says, “What?”

He's panicking, he knows he is, but… “Marriage?!”

Kamui laughs. “What, you didn't know?”

He hisses out, “How and when did we agree to marriage?!”

Kamui freezes, only now taking in Takasugi’s tense (and confused, and panicking) form. “...The proposal last week, remember?”

_“What?”_ How did he get proposed without him knowing, all that happened last week was - (“I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my time besides you”) _oh._ Oh wow, that… this actually makes sense now.

Kamui nods. “So you see, Shinsuke, we're currently on our way to our wedding, which _you_ suggested in the first place.”

Takasugi nods, resigned. He never suggests something he doesn't mean, so this is, for all intents and purposes, inevitable. “Come on then, my bride.”

Kamui giggles. “Excuse you, you're my bride.”

Takasugi smirks. “We’ll see about _that.”_

* * *

 

They're responding to their usual stack of new years cards, as usual, when Kagura screams.

Gintoki startles from his daydream and falls backwards, while Shinpachi just looks on, unfazed.

Gintoki sits up with a groan and says, “What is it, Kagura?”

She shakes her head and silently hands over a blue envelope.

“Oh, a New Year’s card from your brother? How ni-” He plucks the card from the envelope, and chokes.

The card contains an image of Kamui and Shinsuke in tuxedos, smiles and scowls firmly in place. The image itself is tame - pretty, even - but it is the interwoven hands, golden rings firmly in place that shocks him the most. Scribbled underneath the unsettling picture is _Happy new year! Together, we’ll be destroying everything again this year!_

He stares at Kagura, who solemnly nods.

Gintoki hums. “Good for them, I guess.”

Kagura asks, somewhat nervously. “Gin-chan, does this mean we have to invite them over now?”

Gintoki pales. _Oh, no._ “...Maybe next year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, they do get married off-screen... maybe I'll write how that went some other time!


End file.
